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Sought(7)

By:Evangeline Anderson


But Lock found he couldn’t look away as the massive eunuch led his brother through the tall green and pink grass. Deep’s head was held high and he walked casually with no outward sign of fear. And indeed, Lock felt no fear coming from him.

Deep was willing, almost eager to take the pain that was about to be inflicted. Because he felt that he deserved it. Every lick of the whip, every drop of blood, every ounce of pain. All earned. All deserved.

He blames himself, Lock thought as his twin’s broad, bare back disappeared in the taller grass at the edge of the Healing Garden. And not just for Kat. Oh Brother, it wasn’t your fault—when will you ever believe that?

But he knew the answer to that.

Never.





Chapter Three





Lauren Jakes walked quickly along the broad sidewalk that led around the edge of Saint Armand’s Square. Later on, around lunchtime, the entire expanse of white concrete would be filled with the idle rich—tourists mostly, who had come to see Sarasota, one of the richest small cities in the US. The beaches with their sugar fine sand and tropical blue waters were lovely any time of the year and if the rich got bored with baking their oiled bodies, they could always come here.

The Square was actually many interconnecting squares, all lined with specialty shops and expensive, chic little eateries. Marble statues of Greek gods and goddesses stood like sentries on the well trimmed verge, as pale as ghosts in the dim early morning light. Lauren’s shop, The Sweet Spot, was located between the Florida Olive Oil Company which specialized in flavored oils and aged balsamic vinegars and A Little is a Lot, a clothing store that sold only overpriced and undersized bathing suits.

Both shops were dark and quiet as Lauren fumbled for her keys. Neither one would really pick up until the lunch crowd arrived, hours from now. But while her neighbors could afford to sleep in, Lauren couldn’t. The Sweet Spot was a specialty cupcake store and she had to get the day’s inventory started or she would have nothing to sell. “Everything from scratch, everything fresh, every day,” was her motto.

“Should’ve decided to sell overpriced thongs and banana hammocks to rich old men and their trophy wives instead of baked goods,” she muttered to herself as she finally found the right key. “Then I could still be home in bed.”

But getting up early was a small price to pay to do what she loved, she reminded herself. She’d always enjoyed baking—her vanilla bean and passion fruit surprise cupcakes had won a national bake-off by the time she was twelve. Her mom had encouraged her to go to college and Lauren had, as a business major. Somehow, though, she wound up baking muffins and brownies for study sessions with her friends more than she actually ended up studying. Her grades weren’t great but her cupcakes were.

At last her mother had bowed to the inevitable. She’d helped Lauren finance the shop and given her a place to live in one of the condos she owned, just blocks from the Square. Lauren had only been open a few months but so far The Sweet Spot seemed to be a moderate success. Of course, she’d have to be much more than moderately successful in order to pay back the loan. But her mom didn’t seem worried. “Take your time, my darling,” she always said. “Enjoy your life. I just want you to be happy.”

Thinking of her mom always gave Lauren a warm feeling inside. Family was very important to Abigail Jakes—maybe because she’d become estranged from her own family back when she’d become pregnant with Lauren. She didn’t talk about it much but Lauren had gotten the idea that her loved ones had hurt her deeply—which made her mom that much more sensitive toward her own daughter. They’d always had a wonderful relationship—even back when Lauren was a teenager. And now as an adult, they were more friends than mother and daughter.

“Although I still want my mom when things don’t go right,” Lauren muttered, making sure the door was locked behind her. She wished she had her mom with her right now—she would put her to work. Her assistant, Jennie, had quit the day before which meant she had to man the whole shop herself until Lorenzo came in.

Thinking of Lorenzo with his sleek blond hair and tan good looks made her sigh. He was much better at looking good behind the counter than he was at baking. In a moment of weakness, Lauren had let him kiss her and now he thought he owned the place. She’d been putting off his advances ever since and had been planning to replace him before Jennie quit. Now it looked like she was stuck with him for awhile. Still, he was good at selling cupcakes. Especially to rich, older women who liked a little eye candy to go with their culinary confections.